Place Visited - Entry
Amalfi (Italy)--- Feb
Bath (UK)--- Jul
Bologna (Italy)--- Feb
Cambridge (UK)--- Jul (yet to be updated)
Como, Lake (Italy) --- Feb, April
Cinque Terre (Italy)--- Apr
Cumbria (UK) --- Jul (yet to be updated)
Devon (UK) --- Jun (yet to be updated)
Florence (Italy)--- Mar
London & surrounds (UK)--- Jan
Nice/Monaco (France) --- May
Oxford/Cotswalds (UK)--- Jun/Jul (yet to be updated)
Paris (France) --- May, Jun
Piza (Italy) --- Mar
Pompeii (Italy)--- Mar
Provence (France) --- Mar
Rome (Italy) --- Apr
Sienna (Italy) --- Mar
Tuscany (Italy) --- Mar
Turkey (Istanbul/Gallipoli)--- Apr
Salzburg (Austria) --- Dec 08
Venice (Italy) --- Feb
Verdun (France)--- Feb
Whistler (Canada)--- Jan
MAY: (Provence, Nice/Monaco & Paris)
Includes: Bull fights in Provence, Formula One Grand Prix in Monaco, The French Open, and the Metro’s attempt to kidnap the kids, in Paris!
In May we spent time with, Julie’s mum, met up with Ross Brown and his family in Provence, and the Newton Family in Paris. It was also our first sign of car trouble....
PROVENCE - Temps. 16 – 32 deg. C. Dusk at 8.30pm – 9pm.
Markets, Bullfights, Bikeriding & Baguettes... ...
(St Remy, Avignon, Arles, Chateau Neuf –Du-Pape, Gordes, Rousillion, The Carmague, Millau, Mouries, Les Baux, Pont Du Guard and Isle de la Sorge. )
Following Turkey, our next stop was a three and a half week stay in Provence in the south of France. The town of St Remy, made famous by Van Gogh, was an excellent base for day trips, and was a town worthy of a stay in its own right. Not only was Van Gogh assylumed there, but he also painted a no. of his famous pieces during his confinement. We stayed in a pretty, little, 2 bedroom cottage with rambling roses known as Chez Nicole, on the outskirts of town. It was a very Provencale setting which afforded a fantastic rural view of The Apilles Mountains through the olive trees. Whilst the house was small, the yard was large. When combined with the pool, and the bikes left in the garage, this place was pure heaven for the kids, who hadn’t swum or ridden a bike since December. Now that the weather had warmed up to the mid to high twenties on most days, we had lots of opportunity for outdoor activities and alfresco dining at long last.
Backyard view to the Apilles Mountains
Sheri and Nanna (Joy)
Our cottage with some of it's beautiful roses
Joy, (Mum) stayed close by at the nearby village of Mouries, just 15km away. It was great to see her and share our French adventure. Elmo meanwhile, was having a holiday of his own back in Sydney with his mum and dad. Having Joy so close allowed for the odd sleepover and ensured some girl time. Steve & Mitch were very grateful to duck out of all the local markets, sighting, ‘mother/daughter bonding’ as a worthwhile scapegoat.
Kids and nanna outside her cottage, "Little Owl" in Mouries
Flower Market in Mouries
Mum and I took full advantage of this thinking, and did a wonderful Provencale cooking class in St Remy, which included meeting Pascal, the chef at the local market beforehand to buy the ingredients. The food was superb, and the day, (including an escorted tour of Avignon afterwards,) was made even more enjoyable by the company of our guide and host, Phillipe and two lovely ladies (Judy and Kate,) from Minneapollis, Minnesota who had chosen the “four day- living in option.” This option at Domaine de Valmouriane, seemed like the ultimate cooking holiday, something that would have to go on the list for a future trip, some day....
Joy, preparing the quails with Pascal
Magnificent cheese stall at markets
Buying the fresh produce for cooking school
Life in St Remy was full, although it put a strain on our constantly under pressure waist lines and budgets. Not only was it filled with colourful restaurants, cafes, and patisseries, but a weekly market was held in amongst the laneways and tree lined ring road of the town centre. Most mornings, Steve would take one of the kids down to the local Boulangerie on their bikes to collect the baguettes, and sometimes lashed out with a Chossan Pomme, (apple turnover) or Panna Chocolat, (chocolate croissant,) so the rest of us would eagerly await their return. “When in Rome,” we’d say to ourselves. Riding our bikes up the nearby country lanes was not only enjoyable alternative to driving, but also helped us rationalise future bakery ventures. Sadly, I think the Boulangerie won out over the bike most times. To their credit, the French were very aware of cyclists, so it made it easy to explore during family bike rides. The kids all rose to the challenge, each stepping up a notch to cope with the bikes available as they were a little on the large side. Riding on the road (and the wrong side at that,) with GEARS and NO back pedal brake, was a real feat, especially for Cassidy who seemed to skin her knees most days. We had to admire her determination to keep up with the rest of us at whatever the cost!
Steve and Mitch with the River God of Glanum which headed up the pool
Off for the morning baguettes...
Mitch testing his fear of heights in the backyard trees of Chez Nicole
St Remy Weekly Markets: Spices, local artichokes, sweet, tasty capsicums
The local markets were held every Wednesday and were fantastic. All types of fresh, local produceand seafood was in available in abundance. Clothes, jewellery, art and shoes were also on offer of course, and all of amazing quality. It was hard not to go religiously each week, ensuring that we had the school work schedule clear. Markets were prolific in France so we made sure we did our share of visiting at various other towns including; Isle sur la Sorgue (which was an enormous market set alongside the Sorge River,) Gordes and Mouries. Mouries, (mum’s little village,) had a lovely weekly market and a once a month flower market, both of which we patronised whilst she was there.
Berry anyone?
Garlic, garlic and more garlic....
Delicious Seafood Paella and clam shells sold fresh,hot & ready to eat
Bag stall at the infamous, Isle Sur la Sorgue Markets
Like most French towns in the south, local gents could often be seen having their afternoon game of Petanque most afternoons. This laid back way of life certainly agreed with us, just as it had in Italy. The kids, would tell you their favourite thing about St Remy was their carousel. The French, we discovered had a thing for Merry-Go-Round Carousel’s, with every major town having one in a central square. We could have almost called the one in the St Remy town square, “our’s” by the time we left, as they’d had so many rides on it. It was a tribute to Jules Verne’s trip around the world, with all the different modes of transport represented. We realised we’d overdone it when he started giving us freebies, (both the kids and nanna that is, who wasn’t shy about having a go either!)
Gentleman playing Petanque in town square of Arles
The kids favourite carousel in St Remy town square
Cafe society of St Remy around the ring road
One of the unexpected surprises of our little town was a regular bull fighting competition. We’d always thought of bull fighting as a typically Spanish endeavour, but discovered this to be unfounded. Being so close to the Spanish border, I guess it was natural for some such traditions to be shared. St Remy, like many Provencal towns, held bull fighting “displays” regularly, where the local lads would challenge their physical fitness, nerve and stamina. To watch them you’d swear they were acrobats straight from Cirque Du Soliel, effortlessly (or so it seemed,) hurdelling fences so as to avoid a nasty jab in the behind.
At mum’s suggestion, (having watched one already in Mouries,) we took Steve’s work colleague, Ross Brown and his family, to one such an event, just a 500m walk from home. Whilst we were assured it was not the type where the bull is killed, boy, oh boy, did we get more than we bargained for! Steve, much to his own surprise had just minutes before, had changed his camera lens over to one which took two or three shots per second. Apparently, this sort of lens is what the professionals use to capture things at high speed. As it turned out he was in the right place, (or wrong place, depending upon which way you looked at it,) to capture a poor young guy being gored in the leg after a bull in hot pursuit, jumped the barrier. Before Steve realised what he was filming, he had the whole thing frame by frame at high definition – a sports photographers dream. See just a selection of these below. These athletes certainly did play rough. This poor guy’s mates gave him a hand to the first aid tent, before quickly re-entering the ring for more. The locals were obviously used to it, as we seemed to be among only a few that looked on in alarm. Much to our concern, was the fact that no ambulance siren was heard for at least half an hour after play resumed. And we all thought rugby was a real man’s game!
"Can I reach it? No, I best be off then "
"Oh, no, he's jumped the fence after me, that's not supposed to happen."
"Ouchhhhhh, that was my leg!!!
"Thank goodness, he's off now, after someone else."
Also in St Remy, although a little less dramatic, were the Roman ruins of Glanum and the assylum Van Gogh put on the tourist trail. Both of which we visited in the 32 degree heat one afternoon, and found very interesting. The kids got to sit in one of Van Gogh’s three bedrooms and we got to learn more about the artist that painted the picture we chose for our wedding invitation. The Romans, Mitchell informed us, had been just about everywhere, and took great delight in guiding us around this once Gaulish village. It gave you a wonderful insight into Roman life back in 50BC, and was far less overwhelming than the site of Pompeii.
The ruins of Glanum dating back to roman times
Mitch and Cassi with some ,friends they made in Les Baux who were from The Pyrennese
All of us with mum at Les Baux
Vincent Van Gogh's bedroom at the asylum in St Remy
We also made a no. of side trips during our time in Provence, including retracing the steps of our honeymoon 12 years prior. We even went as far as looking up Sylvette who ran the B&B we stayed in all those years ago only to discover she was still running “La Ravigote” in Gigondas (north of Orange.) Having dropped in one afternoon, we arranged to go back on our way from Nice to Paris later in the month for an overnight stay. It was so nice to show the kids where we’d come before they were even thought of, to see her, and appreciate all the changes and developments the local village and La Ravigote. We all enjoyed a magical, balmy afternoon down by the pool (which was new since our last visit,) picking cherries and playing in the vineyards. Later that night, the magic continued outdoors, with a wonderful , home cooked meal . Steve and I had sat in this leafy, green courtyard many years before for breakfast. If I remember correctly, he was studying for his CFA at the time. One this occasion, we enjoyed the company of Sylvette and her other guests, a lovely Swiss couple and their pooch, “Ongee” which the kids just adored. Oh how they were missed their little Elmo...
Dining alfresco with Sylvette at La Ravigote
Mitch in the vineyards at La Ravigote
Cassidy cherry picking before dinner
Other side trips included Les Baux, (which hosted a medieval castle a top of the village,) Rousillion, (the town built upon the red soil,) Gordes, (another medieval village, where Ross Brown and his family were staying,) Arles (famous for its Roman built arena and Van Gogh’s place of hospitalisation,) Chateau Neuf Du Pape, (back to the vineyard and winery, we’d visited on our honeymoon for some obligatory supplies,) The Carmargue (to see the wonderful white horses and flamingos amongst the wet marsh lands,) and Avignon (to see the Palace Of The Popes during its 300th year anniversary.) It never seems to amaze us, just how much wealth and power the churches had all those years ago. Steve and Mitch also made trips to the Pont Du Guard, (the well known Roman Aquaduct,) and to the Milau Bridge, (the tallest bridge in the world.) Before leaving Provence, we bid farewell to Joy, (mum) who departed shortly after us for a tour of Spain & Morocco. We headed for Nice where we stayed for 3 nights before heading to Paris.
Pont du Gard
Double decker Carousel in Avignon
Mitch at the Millau Bridge
Mitch at Chateauneuf DuPape
The medievil village of Gordes
Outside the Palace of the Popes In Avignon
Provencal house at Gordes
White horses of The Carmargue
Flamingos in Carmargue wetlands
Nice / Monoco – Temps. 16 – 30 deg. C. Dusk at 9 -9.30pm.
(The Gold Coast or Venice Beach of the French Riviera)
We drove the two and a half hours to Nice in the afternoon following a last minute dash to Avignon in the morning to see the Palace of the Popes. Madge’s air conditioning had packed it in so the drive was hot and sticky. It seemed to take forever in the 32 degree heat, and was made no less painful by the kids CD’s and accompanying renditions of Lets Learn French and Number’s Are All Around Us. In the end, it was a case of if you can’t beat them join them, which ended with Steve and I joining in the mish mash of singing with the times tables in French! Glad to out of the car once we arrived, we tried to pour ourselves into the smallest hotel in the world. Sure it was well located just off the promenade in Nice, but we had to stuff our ever growing collection of luggage into the lift, (made for two people only) about eight times and then try and make space to walk on, once inside our room.
A very colourful and busy, Nice Beach
The kids trying to negotiate the stones
Nice seemed to a fun place, where anything went. It was everything from the glitz and glamour of upper class chique, to budget basics for the backpackers. The beach was alive serving as a melting pot of people from all over the world; some roller blading, some sunbaking, others playing frisbee, whilst others still, sort the thrill of parasailing. It was funny to watch the water goers (including ourselves,) navigate their way awkwardly across the grey, lucky stone equivalent of sand, for what we now term “the painful paddle.” Never again would I curse the heat of our sand back home. At least you can walk on it without falling over like I did one afternoon, with Mitch. Sheri decided she’d just be done with it and wear her sandals, it was too hard to try barefoot. None the less, the beach was a great place to people watch and enjoy the entertainment of everyday life on the French Riviera.
We had come to Nice for the Monaco Grand Prix, the jewel in the crown for the Formula One Motoring enthusiast in the family. Steve went to the practice day on the Saturday whilst the kids and I knocked over some school work and toured the city. After the customary carousel ride in the park opposite, we enjoyed a “Petite Train” ride (as they are known throughout France,) and toured the city, taking in the lovely views from the site of the old Chateau, and observed the laneways full of shops and open air markets. Galleries Lafayette (a major French department store, ) then beckoned us,( much to Mitchell’s dislike,) before meeting up with Steve. Unlike the first night where we ate at one of the more touristy restaurants in the old town, we had dinner in a really nice restaurant on the beach. The night was ever so balmy, and we could have been forgiven for thinking we were somewhere in the Whit Sundays. It was so relaxing, and so warm, just watching the kids on the beach in and around the meal as the sun went down. For the first time on our trip, we were enjoying the beach in good weather. How we take this for granted back home...
Our attempt to get some zzzz’s was foiled that night, as the hotel was even more central to the activity in Nice than we’d thought. As it turned out we were across the road from a major rock concert in the park. The walls of our room actually vibrated and hummed all by themselves! The kids got to sleep near midnight, and Steve and myself nearer to three, having failed in our attempts to decipher the lyrics. Not exactly what we were hoping for the night before dragging the kids out for the race early the next morning for a full day in the sun. But you know what they say about the best layed plans...
Next morning, we successfully navigated the metro and tram system to Monaco, arriving just in time for the first race of the day – the porches. The track was amazing, and our seats even more so, right across from the harbour and marina which was just packed with spectators and supporters in their maxi yachts, and cruisers. It was fun to watch them all partying and doing lunch before the big race. Monaco was certainly a people watching paradise, and had an electric feel about the place, although that was probably just the buzzing in our ears from the cars. This didn’t stop Cassidy from catching up on her beauty sleep during the big race, managing to sleep under the shade of our legs on the floor, for about two hours. Thank god for earplugs!
Monaco Grand Prix circuit overlooking the harbour, packed with luxury cruise boats
Mark Webber who came 5th, (before he went on to win the German GP two months later .)
"How is this all going to go in here?" ....half an hour he managed it, despite us all nursing things on our laps!
Anyway a good day was had by all. We battled our way back to Nice with the crowds and had a quick meal before trying to make good on the night before’s sleeping disaster. Upon Steve’s miraculous feat of closing the boot of the car the next morning, we were set off for Paris with a night on route with Sylvette back in Provence, (as per above.)
PARIS - Temp. 16 – 29 deg. C. Dusk at 9.30 – 10pm.
>"A truely wonderful city!"
We landed in Paris after a tiring, six hour drive. It rained on the way, and got very cold, getting down to about twelve degrees. This came as a rude shock after the heat of the south, but made the trip far less taxing than it could have been given our air conditioner was on the blink. Our apartment, (whilst a little on the cosy side, and on the fourth floor of a building with no lift,) was very comfortable and well located on the left bank, (St Germaine/Latin Quarter) just a 200m walk to the Notre Dame. It served as an excellent base for discovering all the well known treasures of Paris. It also could have served, (if we’d realised earlier,) as a wonderful base for exploring lots of other lesser known jewels of this amazing city.)
Beautiful Parsian architecture
Mitch sailing boats in the pond outside the Louvre
Boats on The Seinne
Every day was a new conquest. First we explored locally, taking in the Notre Dame Cathedral, it’s bell tower, most interesting gargoyles and magnificent views. Day two it was off to the Louvre to see the Mona Lisa and the Egyptian Antiquities, the Place de la Concorde, where the guillotine was kept busy long ago, followed by a walk down the Champs Elysees, to the kids, cries of “Do we have to?” We then found ourselves offering bribes to get them to climb the Arc de Triomphe, luckily a secret lift helped out there. We were lucky to see the “Relighting of the Flame of the Unknown French Soldier Ceremony” at the foot of the arch afterwards.
Mitch outside the Louvre
"The Wedding Feast of Cana" at the Louvre
View of the Arche de Triomphe we later took from the Eiffel Tower
During the next few days in Paris we went to The French Open at Roland Garos, Versaille, and a day at the Park Asterix theme park, 40km north of Paris. The French Open was a highlight for us out at Roland Garos. Steve and I had long enjoyed attending the Aussie Open in Melbourne, but the kids had never seen a live tennis match before. So with no expectations, we went along with general ground passes to see what we could catch. You can imagine our surprise to see Serena William’s hitting up on a back court, right up close and personal. Leyton Hewitt played Nadal that afternoon too on centre court, but we made the decision not to watch him on the big screen outside and instead went and supported the Aussie Womens Doubles pair, Sam Stosur and Renae Stubbs. Unlike poor Leyton, who copped a thrashing, they won their match easily, and went on to play another round before being knocked out. Sam Stosur, individually also did really well during the tournament, getting through to the fifth round. We met up with their biggest fan, a lady by the name of Wendy, (an aussie whose lived in Paris for 40 years,) and learnt all about their progress. Wendy, had got to know them well over the years, so was kind enough to give us an intro. by the court, so the kids could grab a photo with them. Because the back courts only had three rows of spectator seating around them, we were nice and close to the action.
Kids courtside with Serenna hitting up for her match the following day
Serena Williams serving up...
Kids with Sam Stosur and Renae Stubbs
Mitch with South African winner of the doubles match we watched
The summer tourism peak wasn’t far away from what we could tell with the queues at Versaille being fairly long. Having seen the inside some time ago, we took in a shortened visit of the palace this time around, instead choosing to venture outside to the fountains, gardens and central lake out back. It was a glorious, sunny day, so we all enjoyed ice creams on the lawn whilst watching the row boats. The wealth of Louis the X1V, whilst impressive, took second place as far as the kids were concerned, to the outside garden. Besides, they were a little over the museum thing by this stage, having visited the Louvre and the Vatican recently.
Outside the Palace of Versaille
Boating in the Lakes of Versaille on a perfect summers afternoon
Standing over the Seinne outside the Musee de Orsay
Unfortunately, we had made a promise to the kids that we would go to the Build A Bear Workshop when we got to Paris, so we attempted to get there before returning home that evening. Problem was, it wasn’t located in the heart of town, so we had to travel to the end of the yellow line, changing trains twice in the process. Whilst my gut instinct told me this wasn’t a good thing, we continued on. Sure enough, as we attempted to board the regional train, the door’s shut abruptly behind the kids, without any warning, leaving Steve and I on the platform. A great deal of screaming took place I can tell you. Our only saving grace being the poor Frenchman who’d also been caught out, stuck fast between the two doors. With some help we were able to prise each of the doors open and clamber on board, much to everyone’s relief. Slightly traumatised, we went to an international mass at the Notre Dame Cathedral next morning to give thanks and count our blessingss. Needless to say, Build A Bear wasn't given another thought that day.....
Gargoyle at the top of Notre Dame Cathedral overlooking all of Paris
Park Asterix sounded like the perfect thing so we set off taking Madge (our car,) out of the carpark for the first time since arriving in Paris. Park Asterix had long been a destination of desire for Steve and his brother Nick, having grown up on Asterix comic books over the years. Nick had tried to make it there once before only to be turned back because it was full. So our pilgrimage Nick was for you! Luckilly, it wasn’t quite summer, so the crowds were manageable, the weather was fine. Whilst the park had the potential to be a bit of a flop, considering it’s Disney competition , it really surpassed all expectations. The rides and entertainment were great, the theming was amazing, it was clean and extremely well maintained, and most importantly, it wasn’t overwhelming, being compact enough to get around easily. I’ve hardly read an Asterix comic, and even I was impressed! The kids had a ball, and so did we.
Mitch with Vitalstatistix and Impedimenta
Steve reliving his childhood through his kids
Kids after riding the rapids
Cassidy with some big boots to fill. Can she move a menhir?
It was that time again, when we needed to seek the services of an english speaking hairdresser. We were lucky to have one right next store to our apartment. Eric was a lovely man who we discovered, commutted from Normandy twice a week. We got to know him well over the course of the week, as each of us in turn payed him a visit. The girls revelled in the experience, whilst Steve and Mitch came along for the ride. Mitch I might add, really needed it as he hadn't had a haircut since we left Sydney five months before. Eric invited us to visit he and his family up in Normandy, later in the year when we were to pass through, so we all swapped details accordingly.
Girls sporting their new looks with Eric, the hairdresser
In and around our adventures in Paris, the school work continued although only just. Unfortunately, we’d got a bit behind schedule in Provence with all the sightseeing and revision for Sheri and Mitch’s upcoming NAPLAN tests. Any initial thoughts of catching up in Paris were laughable, as there was just so much to do, and a week really wasn’t long enough to do it. Besides that, staying in a one bedroom apartment meant that we really weren't set up for schoolwork and the early night's that needed to go with it. Oh well, we had a quieter time coming up in the UK, or so we hoped.
On our last couple of days we visited the Musee de Orsay to see the works of Monet, Van Gogh and Rodin, which was really impressive, and much less overwhelming compared to the Louvre. On our last day, we met up with Sophie Newton and family from St Philip Neri. Sheri had been counting down the days, and was delighted to share climbing up the stairs of the Eiffel Tower (quite literally to the second level,) with her friend. Afterwards we all picniced in the park below and had a good catchup before walking back through the St Germaine district. On the way, Steve, Mitch and Cassi joined the Newton's at the infamous, DeMargot's Cafe, whilst Julie and Sheridan, headed to the well regarded, top notch department store, Le Bon Marche for some last minute sticky beaking.
Sheri at Le Bon Marce, one of the best department stores in Paris
Sheri and Sophie at the Eiffell Tower, where they walked to the second level
Another beautiful building in Paris
Our trip to Paris was a real highlight, it had been full, but left many more places still to visit. Next time, we promised ourselves we'd just hang out, with a much less touristy objective. Sadly, we wouldn't make it back in the summer, but hoped to visit again, in mid November, whre we would probably see an entirely different side to this wonderful city. Next we were off to Devon in the UK for a change of pace, staying in a light house keeper's cottage.
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